Angel Eclipsed (The Louisiangel Series Book 2) (27 page)

His gaze was on the angels complaining at the hatch and I took the time to study his profile. Cupid was tall, lanky, and like every other angelic being, good looking enough to be on the cover of any magazine. To look at him, you’d think he spent most of his time studying. You certainly wouldn’t expect him to be insanely skilled at archery. He would happily watch an episode of Arrow with me and claim that he had a lot to live up to, but the truth was the Arrow had a
long
way to go before he was a patch on the archangel.

But it wasn’t his looks which caught my attention. It was his overall demeanor. There were currently three archangels, including Cupid, living in the convent. Michael, who looked like he had be sculptured into existence, was slightly taller with the most incredible set of abs I’ve ever seen (sorry, Joshua), and Raphael, who was equally as good looking and built like a quarterback. The thing the three of them had in common was their presence. They could command the room in a way I could only dream of, and with a weapon in their hands – I couldn’t understand why any fallen angel would stay in the same city and think they were safe.

Right now Cupid looked miserable. He still stood upright – centuries of excellent posture wasn’t going to disappear in a few weeks – but the way he held himself, like the sole purpose of his arms was to try to act like a bandage to hold himself together… If I ever met up with Veronica again, I was going to kick her ass for just disappearing on him.

When something in me twinged, I sprung forward and wrapped my arms around him. Unlike Michael who really doesn’t know how to respond when I hug him, Cupid pulled his arms out from under me, only to return the hug, squeezing me back just as tightly. “I’m okay, Angel,” he muttered.

“Maybe it’s me that needs the hug,” I responded.

We stood there for a while – long enough that most hugs would have turned awkward and uncomfortable by this point, but I could tell Cupid needed it. “I miss her, you know?” he admitted, finally.

“I know,” I said.

“I just want to know she’s okay,” he added.

I pulled back slightly to look up into his sad brown eyes. “Can you not just ask Michael where she is?”

Cupid shook his head. “I already have. He doesn’t know.”

I finally stepped back out of the embrace, frowning. “I thought he had a connection with all the angels in the House?”

“Only if they’re part of the House,” Cupid explained. “And the cherubim are no longer part of any house.”

“Surely there’s someone in Heaven who has a trace on them?” I suggested. “I mean, it’s not like they fell, is it?”

“No,” Cupid agreed, his expression grim. “But this is only half a step away from that. They’re lucky Michael didn’t consider a rebellion. They have you to thank for that.”

“Me?” I repeated, dumbly.

Cupid nodded. “You stormed into Michael’s office and you got him to listen. You made him realize that he was as much to blame for their leaving as they were.”

I stared at him, dumbfounded. My memory of that conversation was a little hazy: I’d seen red and shouted at the most famous archangel. I also wasn’t in any particular hurry to remember that conversation either. I’m fairly certain I resorted to some form of name calling. He probably should have kicked
me
out.

* * *

After the angels had left the dining room, and I had cleared up after them, I turned my attention back to the dinner I had planned. Chili without onions didn’t seem right. Strangely, it was a missing ingredient which made something in me snap.

Enough was enough. I was getting out of this convent. Alright, so maybe I had revealed the presence of angels to the world – something which had been successfully hidden for millions of years. Or had it? If I remembered correctly (I had finally taken it upon myself to start reading the Bible) there were
several
angels (including Michael!) who had made an appearance in the book, so I wasn’t the first.

I was just the first to do it in a world of social media.

Whatever. I hurried up to my room to grab a cap I knew I had buried in the bottom of the wardrobe. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail so that I could feed it through the cap loop and examined myself in the bathroom mirror. It covered my head well, making the tail less noticeable, and with the denim skirt and white tank top I was wearing, I could probably pass unnoticed. I stuck some a credit card in my pocket (it turned out that the House had a bank account – they needed to pay for the groceries somehow) and was about to head for the door when I grabbed a purse at the last minute.

Downstairs I made a quick detour to the unlocked armory and ducked in to collect my sword. My heart sank. It did every time I saw the black metal – it always reminded me of how I had turned it black. I fought back a sudden burst of pain as I thrust it in my purse and then exited the convent.

Michael’s House is the Old Ursuline Convent on Chartres Street. Although the convent is no longer open to the public, St Mary’s Church, which technically lies on the convent’s ground, is still used for services in the local Catholic community. Thankfully, the main entrance to the church doesn’t involve going through convent grounds. The convent also has a brick wall that has to be at least ten feet tall going around it.

Unfortunately, I could hear a gathering on the other side. Although my ‘publicity stunt’ had been written off as a hoax by most there were still a few individuals who believed. According to Paddy there were a few individuals lingering around all the churches in the French Quarter – just in case they came across an angel.

The angels still used the main gate, but aside from their good looks, there was nothing to hint they were something other than human. Even though I was wearing a cap, I still had bright red hair that might act like a neon sign to this group of believers.

I made for the side gate Veronica has shown me. It was half hidden in the undergrowth and I don’t think many people knew it was there. From the street, it was around the corner of the main entrance and as it looked badly maintained, I don’t think anyone associated it with the convent. Even so, I pulled it open cautiously, sticking my head out to make sure there was no one around. Only when I was certain it was clear, I stepped out quickly pulling it closed behind me.

I had taken only a few steps when a van rumbled past me – okay, I was maybe a little paranoid, but I didn’t want to risk anyone linking me back to the convent. I was wincing at the image of Michael yelling at me for that, caught up in my imagination, that I didn’t notice anyone behind me until a sack was yanked over my head and arms clamped around me.

There was only one kind of being that would attempt this and have the strength to keep me subdued: the Fallen. Before I could scream, I was dragged into something – judging from the engine and the metal floor, quite possibly the van which had just passed.

Cupid was right. I did need to work on my observational skills, and if I survived this, I was going to make damn sure those lessons happened.

If
I survived this.

First and foremost, my eternal love and gratitude go to my dad, mum and sister for being the best family a person could ask for: I don’t know why I was ever shy about showing you Angel in Training, because you’ve been simply incredible – I hope that others are lucky enough to have a family like mine! Thank you for being so amazing! I love you so much!!

Amalia, once again you have provided me with a cover that is incredible. The first was beautiful, and although I knew you would again create a work of art, what you provided was even better than the first (I had no idea that was even possible!), and that was despite my vague emails and stick figures. Thank you also for the extra mile you went to find the beautiful images.

The cover art, although incredible, would not have been as wonderful as it is without the use of the background image, created by Ahmad Turki. Ahmad, thank you so much for allowing me to use your street scene. Your work is incredible and it’s an honor to have it incorporated into my cover.

Patrick, once again you have done a stellar job with the editing, especially keeping my comma use at bay! I really enjoyed going through the edits (despite my cringing at the mistakes I’d managed to miss), and I look forward to the next time. I still owe you a meal and I certainly will deliver on that.

Tina, thank you once again for your edits and the use of your keen eye. I think it’s fair to say that without you, Angel’s voice would have waivered for there were certainly parts where many would not have understood what she was saying.

Having become emerged in the story for so long, I will be the first to admit, no matter how many times this book was read through by me, an author cannot edit or proofread her own work. Naomi, thank you for reading through and catching the errors, despite the fact you had a thesis to write! I also apologise for the error with Dave. As you can see this has been corrected. Thank you for also keeping me sane with much needed snapchats of Basil.

Kris, you were the first person to point out the problem with this story in its earlier draft. I knew it was there, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Donna, your help with the chapters was invaluable and I know you’re a huge part of the reason why they’re as good as they are. Thank you for both for your help, and thank you for continuing to read everything, even now when you have so much going on in your lives.

My no-to-secret second (third) life is as a DJ, and part of that is hosting the HUU Karaoke. (Big shout out to the regulars – except when you request ‘Hey Jude’ or Christmas songs in May…) Every week Libby turns up and not only keeps me company, steps in to help out when I need to run to the bar, but is also a sounding board when I need to bounce ideas off her and a beta-reader. Thank you – I’m not sure how I’m going cope when you’re in China.

Another of my beta readers is Martin. I love your insight but I really need to stop talking with you because our discussions always spark a new idea and I’m certain I’m going to end up with way more books than I ever planned. Although some would see that as a good sign?

The last of my beta readers, but certainly not least, is Victoria. From day one, you have been amazing. You have listened to ideas, given me so much help – like introducing me to the local writers section in WH Smiths, and Goodreads giveaways – and still managed to live the excitement with me. I don’t know what I would do without you!

In addition to the many people who have helped with the creation of this book, there are a number of people who helped in other ways since Angel in Training came out. First on this list is Rob who has imparted invaluable help and advice, and will be the reason my website will have a shop. (I’m the reason it will take so long to get on there). Thank you.

There is, of course, my first Groupie, Anastasia, who, if I’m ever lucky enough to travel the world doing book tours, will be joining me – and I know I have no say in that matter.

I must also thank TJ, Anna, Ozgür, Rebecca, Scott, Mat, Connor, Ruby, and Colm who have all been incredibly supportive, helped keep me sane, reminded me why I keep doing this, and also put up with all of my giddy excitement. Seriously: thank you guys!

Of course, this book wouldn’t have happened if not for Jana and Jim. Not only do you continue to answer random questions about police procedure, but you will take me in with no notice at all! I miss you both!

One thing I’ve enjoyed most is getting to know new people. I can’t go any further without thanking the bloggers who have made this process so incredible, in particular, Hannah at The Not So Public Library, Maya at Lurking in the Pages, and John at Between the Blurb.

Then there comes the biggest thanks of all – to every single person who has read Angel in Training, and who has read Angel Eclipsed. Thank you also to those of you who have left a review. Knowing the book is being read is honestly a dream come true, but reading the reviews and seeing how much it is enjoyed is both incredible and humbling. Thank you so much.

I hope I have missed anyone off the list, and if I have, I truly mean no insult by it!

C. L. Coffey works in an office by day. By night she leads a (not-so) secret life DJing, and throughout it all, is constantly scribbling away as the plot bunnies demand constant attention.

Her first novel was written when she should have been revising for her exams. While it is unlikely to ever see the light of day, it was the start of long relationship with a love of telling stories.

A need to do more than just one subject led her to the University of Hull, where she graduated with an honours degree in American Studies. For the third year of the four year degree, she was able to call Baton Rouge home. Since then, Louisiana has claimed a large chunk of her heart, and remains a place she will always consider home.

When not transcribing the stories of the angels and archangels, working, or DJing, she is at the beck and call of three cats – all of whom rank higher in the household than she does.

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